


holonet stars

by press



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Epic Bromance, Epic Friendship, F/M, Friendship, Gen, HoloNet, OOC, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, i love that thats a tag, just in this to have fun, like really ooc sometimes but im trying ok, shamelessly ripping off various shows, thats a tag too?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-10 08:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14733752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/press/pseuds/press
Summary: Celebrities are treated... interestingly on Earth. From being forced onto TV shows to rabid fans both online and in person. Our boys from a galaxy far far away are pretty much celebrities confirmed so I wanted to subject them to that because I’m mean.Or,I’m not saying that Anakin and Obi-Wan dancing together live on the Holonet will save the galaxy, but it just might.





	1. honestly ive never been a dancer im making this all up

“Welcome back to _Dancing Stars_ , brought to you live on the Holonet from Courscant. I am Grenna, your host for this next performance.” The Rodian host turned to the audience in his studio, eyes twinkling as he welcomed the applause. His viewers truly had no idea what was in store for them. He couldn’t wait to see the reviews and ratings later.

“Usually here on _Dancing Stars_ , we invite beings known for their acting, singing, or dancing across the galaxy and the Holonet alike here to show off their skills. However, today we all get a unique opportunity. Our next couple of dancers are household names, but I doubt you have ever seen either of them dance, let alone with each other.” He could practically feel the curiosity and anticipation rising in the room. Pushing down a swell of giddiness, the host adjusted his jacket and paced off to the right of the stage where a small seating area was set up.

“These two Jedi are on leave from the front and graciously agreed to come on our show today.” Already there were excited whispers in the crowd. As the Rodian sat in an armchair, the lights all dimmed except for center stage.

“Their names have practically become one word, a word synonymous with victory. Wherever they fight, they leave scores of scrapped droids. They are The Team. The twin generals of the Open Circle fleet. The Negotiator and The Hero With No Fear. Please welcome Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker!”

His voice would have been drowned out by the crowd if he hadn’t been hooked up to audio amplifiers. Out of the wings walked in the two Jedi and the crowd somehow got even louder. Obi-Wan had a serene smile on his face but his eyes were obviously shocked at their noisy reception. Anakin, on the other hand, simply grinned smugly and shot a look at his former master as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

In unison, the two bowed to the studio audience and didn’t lift their heads until the noise had started to die down. Suddenly they turned to face each other completely and the crowd went dead silent, not wanting to miss a moment. The lights went downexcept for a lone spotlight illuminating the men. The low warbling of a stringed instrument resonated and the dance began.

As one, the Jedi held out their hands palm to palm and laced their fingers together. They pulled and drew one another closer, spinning around their linked hands before extending their arms and skipping away from the other. Obi-Wan held out his hand to Anakin, palm down. In response, Anakin dropped to one knee and grabbed the offered hand.

The crowd barely contained itself as they recognized the opening steps of _The Jedi and The King_ , a famous and historic voiceless opera. They could hardly believe their luck, about to witness their heroes twirling around each other in such a gorgeous dance.

Obi-Wan turned about, still holding his former padawan’s hand, and fell back onto Anakin’s knee. His back arched and his free hand stretched over his head, brushing the ground. Anakin supported him with a hand in the small of his back, slipping his other hand out of his grip and under his thighs and he quickly rose, throwing his head back dramatically. They held the pose for a moment: Obi-Wan nearly upside down with his fingertips grazing the stage and Anakin sliding a hand down his leg as the music met its first swell.

Obi-Wan was playing the part of the gentle and mystical Jedi while his partner was the powerful but selfish King. The voiceless opera was famous the galaxy over for not only being so beautiful but also for being the only performance all written, scored, choreographed, and arranged by Jedi. While it could be danced by non-force sensitives, the easy grace and strength of Order members made it so much more expressive when performed by a pair of Jedi.

Anakin lowered Obi-Wan until his hand flattened on the stage and shoved at his legs so he flipped down into a crouch before spinning away. He stopped and offered his hand palm up, leather glove gleaming. Obi-Wan laid his hand on his partners wrist. In a burst of movement, he sprang to his feet, sliding his hand up to the broad shoulder and jumping up into the air. The King grabbed his hips and lifted his body over his head, the Jedi’s hands lifting off of his shoulders and fingers spreading wide. They slowly turned around until when Anakin dropped him down into a pseudo-waltz, the audience could only see Obi-Wan’s hands, one in the other’s grip and the other draped over leather tabards.

The _Jedi and The King_ told the story of a Jedi sent to mediate the conflict between a planetary ruler and his people. The King was both loved and feared among his subjects for his ruling style supported by an unbeatable army. However, he was growing desirous for more absolute control and his people were resisting the change. The Jedi, upon landing, had been apprehended by the King’s police and brought to the palace, shown in the graceful lifts at the beginning. Their first negotiation was during a royal ball, hence the nearly-ballroom dancing.

The men danced around each other. The brunette swept the other into a low dip and lowered his head until his hair hid his face as the music rose into an angry crescendo. The King yanked his captive out of civility and into the air, hands gripping hips. The Jedi pressed his legs together and pointed his toes. He drew one leg to his chest and his hands flew down toward the dancer in black in a mock Force push. Anakin speedily lowered the smaller man and pirouetted away.

In homes across the galaxy, beings of all species and genders logged on to the holonet, either to watch the spectacle unfolding themselves, to post about it on social media, or both. As the host had said, the Skywalker/Kenobi team was known and loved all throughout the Republic. No one was going to miss seeing them outside of newsreels about the war, and dancing together nonetheless.

In sync, both rose up to the balls of their booted feet and held their arms straight up. Their outer legs were suddenly in the air and they threw their arms to the side, using he momentum to spin in place, whirlwinds of white and black. Their legs came down and they took steps away from each other while in deep bows. Then, they ran at each other and leapt though their air in near splits, switching their locations on the stage. Once more, the dancer in white offered his hand to his partner, palm down.

As the story progresses, the King becomes more and more convinced that he needs to change his ways. The calm words and logical ideas of his Jedi prisoner are making him rethink himself. Enraged by this, he interacts with the Jedi in less and less friendly environments, going from a ball to a dinner to unveiled negotiating, hoping that it would make him resist changing even as the two grow closer and become tentative friends.

Anakin accepts the hand and tugs his partner into his arms, deliberately stepping in a perimeter around the twirling Jedi. Obi-Wan hops backwards and balances on the ball of one foot, the other thrown about behind him along with his hands. He swings his limbs forwards and stands, slightly crouched. Anakin skips forwards and, right before he jumps, his partner gives him a boost and throws him up in the air. He spins tightly in the air before gracefully landing. The music grows violent once more and the King whips his head to the side, dead set on the Jedi.

While the King tries to ignore his new friend, he finds himself utilizing his ideas and suggestions. His people like him more and more and with their increased freedom they sing his praises across the planet. The King is delighted. However, he forces himself to direct his anger from himself for how he used to rule onto his Jedi captive, desperately trying to convince himself that he is being forced to change his ways. In one last effort to remain a tyrant, he challenges the Jedi to a fight.

Anakin rushes at his partner on light feet. He pushes off of the stage as Obi-Wan slides underneath in a graceful dive. The taller man lands poised on one foot, the other leg extended behind. Obi-Wan sweeps one of his own legs around so he faces the audience while he gently grabs the offered ankle. The King glances over his shoulder and any observers would have seen a shared grin if they had stood in between the two Jedi in that instant.

Anakin kicks his foot forward, freeing it and giving him momentum into a series of terribly fast spins. Meanwhile, the dancer in white had followed the path of the leg and performed an impeccable set of fan kicks while he rolled over on his back. The dancer in black hopped over him and dropped to a knee once again, offering his hand palm up. The prone Jedi grasped it and was once more tugged up as the music rose to its climax.

Obi-Wan’s legs were swept out from under him as the younger man lifted him with one hand under his back and the other under his thighs. Obi-Wan moved a hand towards the King’s face in another mock push, resulting in Anakin flipping him over his head once more. He sprung upright and turned away. Obi-Wan bent his legs and held his arms out to his sides, like a bird about to take flight. And flight he took.

Anakin came up behind him with a hand on either side of his partner’s waist. As he lifted, the older man jumped and he was suspended in the air. His pointed feet parted and his arms came up, and suddenly silver confetti like raindrops dusted around them. Still carrying the Jedi, Anakin stepped backwards upstage. He dropped the other man down for an instant, adjusting his grip, and the dancer in front of him jumped once more.

Obi-Wan arched back and laid his hands on his partners shoulders. He kicked both legs up and back and Anakin simultaneously pushed him up with his hands on the small of his back. The music paused and in the silence of the studio, the Jedi serenely balanced on the broad shoulders of the King while the latter buried his face into his hands. The low vibrations from many stringed instruments crept back in, getting exponentially louder for each second the two dancers remained frozen. The shiny confetti, like so much broken glass, settled at the pair’s feet and the spell was broken.

The Jedi moved his legs the tiniest bit and lithely landed behind the still form of the other dancer. Anakin’s hands left his face and balled into fists right as Obi-Wan swept him off of his feet, holding him much the same as he had been held less than a minute ago. The King swung an arm over the Jedi’s head and, as if he had actually been hit, Obi-Wan dropped him and spun to the side. They twirled apart, paused, and skipped towards each other with mirrorlike symmetry. As the two met, Obi-Wan went low to grab the taller man’s hips, holding him in the air for scarcely three seconds as he whirled the other above his head.

The music mirrored the stage; it sped backwards through the score and the dancers speedily duplicated the numerous lifts performed during the dance in reverse order. However, instead of the King flaunting the power he had over the captive Jedi, it was the Jedi letting the King experience powerlessness. Between each toss, Anakin tried to spin away only for the dancer in white to calmly sashay around him, catching him in his arms.

The first note sounded and was held as, in a crouch after a reenactment of the first lift of the voiceless opera, Anakin offered his hand to the Jedi, palm down. The wavering note died into silence. The studio audience held its breath. Finally, the confetti on the stage was all swept away by an unseen force and Obi-Wan dropped to his knees. The Jedi reached out and laced his fingers with the King’s, hands palm to palm. They both rose as one and once more twirled around their connected hands. Then they let go with their outside hands and bowed to the audience together, still holding hands between them.

After about a quarter of a minute, they both awkwardly glanced up, still in sync, then dropped hands and straightened. Finally the house lights came up and _Dancing Stars_ ’ Rodian host started clapping. The crowd went wild. The sudden screaming and whistling was deafening. The Jedi in black was shocked into a laugh and smiled wider than a small moon. His counterpart in white wore a similarly startled smile with joyous eyes above. Once more, the duo graced the viewers with a deep bow, shorter this time.

“We will be right back to interview today’s guests after a few messages from our sponsors. Thank you for tuning in to _Dancing Stars_ and we will be right back!”


	2. personally i think im pretty good at writing dialogue

“ _We will be right back to interview today’s guests after a few messages from our sponsors. Thank you for tuning in to_ Dancing Stars _and we will be right back!_ ”

The host had to yell into his audio amplifiers to be heard over the howling of the studio. The twin generals walked over to join him in the sitting area while they waited for the crowd to calm down. They both still nodded and shot dazzling smiles at the audience, familiar with how to relax their frantic fans. The two sat opposite their host on a low slung loveseat, the same cream color as the Rodian’s chair. A serving droid whizzed in and the two relayed their requests, audience members closest straining to hear what they were over the roar of the rest. Loud shushing erupted and quickly hushed the room, though too late to eavesdrop on their favorite Jedi’s favorite beverages.

“Thanks again for inviting us here, Grenna. We really needed a change from all this war business.” Anakin Skywalker leaned on the arm of the sofa, propping his chin on his hand. His smile softened into fondness as he turned towards his companion.

“What my young friend _meant to_ say was that we are both very grateful for this opportunity and we both appreciate the regard you extended to us.” Obi-Wan Kenobi sat up straight, back away from the cushions, but his tone was teasing as he sent a warm smile back at the other Jedi.

“What he said.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and the audience laughed. They were all feeling extremely lucky: not only had they watched the two heroes dance with each other in person, but they got to see them so comfortable with the other. None could recall having seen the Jedi so relaxed and open on the Holonet broadcasts of the war front. Plus, they were the only beings witnessing the happenings onstage. It’s a commercial break after all!

“Well, generals, I must say that the honor—and an honor it is, before you say anything—is ours. Your dancing was breathtaking, and we are so very glad you chose to spend some of your leave time here with us here on _Dancing Stars_.”

The droid returned and handed Obi-Wan a teacup and Anakin a smooth glass. As it departed, Grenna spied a flashing light behind the audience and smoothed out his jacket. Both Jedi sat forward and their happy expressions faded to a more polite interest.

“Welcome back to _Dancing Stars_! Live from Courscant. If you are just joining us, I am Grenna, your host for today, and these are our illustrious performers, Jedi generals of the Open Circle fleet, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker!”

The studio audience clapped and cheered, containing their enthusiasm so they could still hear everything going on up on the stage. Grenna turned to his two guests.

“Generals, that was some beautiful dancing. Simply breathtaking! What was that?”

Anakin sipped at his glass as Obi-Wan answered.

“When we were invited onto your show, we wanted to choose something familiar rather than choreograph something ourselves. We apologize, but it was such short notice,” Grenna waved off the apology, “Obviously for time constraints we couldn’t dance the full voiceless opera for you,” some grumbling from the crowd, Anakin shot a quick smirk at his friend, “so we decided the summary arrangement for _The Jedi and The King_ would be ideal.”

“It was short notice, wasn’t it!” Grenna laughed gently. “How did you two learn it so quickly? While you made it look easy, I’ve heard many a dancer complain about the difficult routine.”

Anakin whipped his head to the side and grinned ferociously at the Jedi in white.

“Second question in and we already got to the part you were dreading, Master!”

To the audience’s absolute shock, Obi-Wan actually audibly sighed before sagging against the back of the sofa.

“I was not _dreading_ anything, my former Padawan. Keep in mind that this story could be just as embarrassing for you.”

“So you admit that it embarrasses you! And besides, I have less shame than you.”

The whole studio struggled to contain their reactions. Were they actually about to bear witness to carefree Jedi? These two respected and loved figures needling each other? Twin heroes of the Republic, teasing and laughing at each other like little boys? Even ever unflappable Grenna seemed awed at the comradarie and affection obviously shown between members of the famously emotionless Order.

“Nearly four years ago, it was getting close to my Padawan’s eighteenth birthday. Around that time, the Courscanti Opera House down in the mid levels was presenting the full _Jedi and King—_ “

“So my cultured master, in some scheme to get me off of his back for gifts, dragged me down as an early birthday present.”

“Jedi to not want for possessions, Padawan!” The two had spoken in sync and the crowd laughed in delight. It was nearly too good to be true! But the truth was right in their faces as the shorter man hid a laugh in his teacup, tucking his boots up on the couch to get more comfortable.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” the other snorted, “my then-current Padawan and I watched the full voiceless opera. To my never ending shock, Anakin absolutely loved it. All he could talk about for hours after was how ‘wizard’ it all was and spouting random facts about it he had somehow accumulated.”

“And finally when my actual birthday did roll around, all I asked my master for was to teach me the full opera.”

“More like begged!” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I never beg!” Anakin responded with an affronted scoff and a smile.

“Really? I seem to remember that time—“

“ _Anyways_ ,” the taller man cut in over the chuckling of the audience, “my Master and I worked hard at it and learned the whole thing finally after a month.”

“Just a month?!” Grenna was floored.

“More like a month and a half standard, because I had an overeager Padawan who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘careful’. He was determined to play the role of the King, so the very first day he tried to pick me up. Believe it or not,” he smirked conspiratorially at the crowd, “Anakin Skywalker used to be unable to lift me with just brute strength. This man tried to hoist me up by my hips, and when he failed, used the force to fling me over his head, causing me to kick him in said head. After Jedi general Skywalker somehow managed to both twist my ankle and give himself a light concussion,” he laughed with his audience, “he spent the next few weeks standard building up his strength purely to be able to perform his preferred role in an opera!”

“You seem to be leaving out a crucial detail there, master!”

“I’ve shared all facts relevant to this story!” He responded a little too promptly.

“Oh, I think this is _very_ relevant to the story. What Jedi general Kenobi didn’t say was that I built up my strength by carrying him around everywhere!”

“It was your idea in the first place! And besides, my ankle was healing!” Obi-Wan’s voice was slightly higher as he furiously tried to save his pride.

“Healing for two weeks? Just admit it, you liked being doted on.”

“Being doted on? Why you insufferable, ungrateful—“ He lashed out with a kick. Anakin caught his ankle and yanked his former master across the loveseat and into his lap.

“You see,” “Anakin, my tea!” he ignored the complaint, “Obi-Wan declined the healers’ offers to heal his ankle on the spot,” “It was only sprained, might I remind you!” “And rather than watch my poor master suffer around on crutches, I offered to carry him, and he didn’t even complain! He even pointed out to me that it could help me get stronger for the opera.” Anakin rose from the sofa and strolled onstage with his struggling companion to the uproarus laughter of the audience. Obi-Wan finally went limp but everyone could see his shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth.

“So the secret of Anakin Skywalker’s workout routine is out: just carry around another person for a month!” Grenna they back his head and laughed.

“It’s been more than a month, now. I always seem to be carrying General Kenobi out of danger.”

“Not _always_ , Anakin. And besides, you usually don’t carry me like a child.” As if to emphasize his point, Obi-Wan smacked his friend in the chest. “Now let me down!”

Anakin complied and the smaller man made a show of huffily straightening up his tunics. He finally settled his hands on his hips and glared up at the other, smiling all the while.

“Although, I must admit we end up dragging each other around more often than not. Do I even weigh anything to you at this point?”

“Not really,” he fell in step with the other as they walked back to the sofa and their drinks, “it’s like holding a couple of grapes.”

“You’re lucky, then. Every time _I_ have the opportunity to rescue _you_ , it’s always after you’ve eaten a ton of permacrete.” Obi-Wan took a long sip of tea and Grenna, though loathing interrupting the banter between the two, use the opportunity to ask another question.

“How have you two had the opportunity to practice during the war? You made it sound like you both still know the full opera, and you obviously know the summary arrangement for _Jedi and King_. How in the galaxy did you find the time to rehearse over these past four years?”

“We _haven’t_ practiced.”

“What?!” Grenna gaped.

“No need to brag, Anakin!” Obi-Wan chided from where he was curled up on the couch.

“It’s the truth!” He looked sufficiently sheepish. “We practiced so much in those few weeks that it’s muscle memory at this point. It’s the Force,” Obi-Wan lifted a finger off the rim of his teacup and his partner’s hair stood straight up, “it allows us to learn and memorize things extremely easily, as well as enhancing our natural abilities. And weren’t you _just_ lecturing me about frivolous use of the Force, Master?” He finally connected the audience’s quiet snickering with the smirk on his friend’s face.

“We’re on leave, Anakin, and we’ve already been acting unbefitting Jedi. The Council will forgive us for one day.”

“In that case,” Anakin raised his glass and his companion floated up off the couch and hovered a meter above the loveseat, “why don’t you take a load off, Master.”

“Very funny, you absolute youngling.” Obi-Wan managed after the hooting and hollering had died down.

Grenna drew a breath to ask something else but before he could, Skywalker’s commlink lit up. He stared at it for a second as his easy smile faded and he gently lowered the Jedi in white down onto his feet as he rose himself.

“Our apologies, Grenna, but it seems duty calls, even on leave. Thank you for a fantastic day, and good afternoon to you all.” Obi-Wan bowed deeply to the studio, Anakin following suit a moment later. The silence that had fallen as the comm blinked was finally broken when the twin generals disappeared into the wings of the stage. The studio screamed in confusion and upset and Grenna yelled into his audio amplifiers once more.

“Thank you for tuning in to _Dancing Stars_ , live from Courscant. Have a wonderful day and we will see you next week!”


	3. never too old for a slumber party imo

“ _Thank you for tuning in to_ Dancing Stars, _live from Courscant. Have a wonderful day and we will see you next week!”_

Padmé felt like her face would split from smiling so much. She was curled up on a couch in her apartments between Sabé and Dormé, eating her favorite foods, and just got to watch her husband and one of her best friends finally acting carefree live on the holonet. She leaned over into Dormé’s side.

“ _Please_ tell me you’ve recorded all that, Dormé!”

“Of course, m’lady! Who do you think I am?” She looked up from her transparisteel pad with an offended expression, teasing smile on her lips. Padmé had a pricy holonet projector that had conjured up little glowing models of the dancing Jedi on her low center table, but Dormé favored her pad with its physical screen for the full color viewing she got. Of course, she had recorded both versions of the show for one of her closest friends.

Sabé burst out laughing from the other side of the senator. Padmé and Dormé both looked over to her, eager to find out what was so funny. Sabé was scrolling through a text-based holonet site on her fully-holographic pad, fingers dancing through air around blue characters.

“People are already theorizing about your husband and General Kenobi! I’m on a fan site and these rabid beings have already dissected every instant they were broadcast, hemming and hawing about how they’re ‘obviously so in love’!”

“Already? It’s barely been five minutes standard!”

“You know how they are, Dormé. Need I remind you of that site we stumbled upon that swore up and down that we were sleeping with Padmé? With all that incredible analysis and interpretation!” The two women laughed and Padmé grinned around a fruit. That certainly had been an experience. And if _she_ was a subject of speculation among the masses of the holonet as a reasonably well-known senator, those two Jedi had it _so much worse_.

As if reading her thoughts, Sabé chimed in, “Remember that arguement we stumbled upon between two whole factions of fanbeings over which one of them took charge in the bedroom?”

“Or the one about how Ahsoka is actually their legal adoptive daughter?” Dormé added, nudging her side.

“Or the one with _completely credible_ evidence that supposedly proves that Anakin likes when Obi-Wan pulls his hair?” Sabé snickered. “They’ll have some more support for that theory after today, won’t they!”

The three women laughed and cuddled closer. Padmé threw an arm around both of their shoulders and pulled them in conspiratorially. “I bet that even the most ‘respectable’ gossip channels will be using this footage in the next scandal.”

“Well we already knew _that_ , Padmé. I bet that if Sabé would be so kind as to go to the lower levels she could pick up an actual flimsimag with those illustrious Jedi printed across the front!”

“Oh my stars you’re totally right!” Sabé gasped around her choking laughter. “Do either of you want anything while I’m down there? I swear I’ll eat my wig if there aren’t at least three full-color flimsimags already being printed.”

“Some emerald wine from that cheap liquor shop down on 30th would be nice.”

“Just bring back as many different flimsis as you can find with those two on the cover, Sabé. Dormé and I will queue up some fan theory videos while we wait for you.”

“Oh, while you’re doing that, don’t forget about that human girl we discovered last time. You know, the one who changed her name to Anaka Skytrotter? I bet she’s scheduled a livestream of her own tonight. Her theories are the _best_.”

“We won’t forget, Sabé.” Dormé was already searching both on her personal pad and on Sabé’s. “Now go, if you can follow our lady’s orders for once.”

Both former-handmaidens-turned-bodyguards roared with laughter and Padmé just sighed with a fond smile. Sabé left and the other two women dissolved into giggles as they searched around for videos made by fanbeings who were convinced that her husband was married to his best friend. Which he _was_ , just not the best friend they were thinking of.


End file.
